


The Parting Glass

by Queer_Trash_Queen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Clarke Griffin, Fluff, Multi, bc no one seems to get that its possible for both to happen, but then it gets angsty, clarke loves lexa AND bellamy, everyone dies, i cant write happy things, it starts out fluffy, sorry - Freeform, well not everyone but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queer_Trash_Queen/pseuds/Queer_Trash_Queen
Summary: Set post S3 finale, a short drabble about Clarke coming to terms with  her actions and losing Lexa while also growing closer to Bellamy. Featuring far too many commas and an abundance of parentheses (because i just can't help myself).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Starts off angsty, then gets kinda fluffy, then gets REALLY angsty. Contains a lot of grief and death, so if that's not your cup of tea turn back now; if it is, please scream with me about how these poor kids can't catch a break.

 

 

> _A man may fight and not be slain / A man may court a pretty girl / And perhaps be welcomed back again /_  
>  _But since it has so ought to be / By a time to rise and a time to fall_ /  _Come fill to me the parting glass /_  
>  _Good night and joy be with you all_
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

Losing Lexa changes Clarke. She’s lost a lot of people before, even people she loves, but she’s never lost someone she’d been _in_ love with. They’ve never been shot because of her, bled out while she frantically tried to save them. Her chest may be too small for all of the kill marks owed to her, but she has one for each of the 100 that they’ve lost and after Lexa dies, she adds another.

After Lexa, she know that she has to do whatever it takes to protect her people (or what’s left of them). She can’t afford any distractions. Maybe she spirals into a dark place, but it’s what allows her to make the decisions no one else will. She takes on The Flame, she takes on A.L.I.E. but it’s not enough (it’s never enough). It feels like the fighting is never done. She can never win, but she’ll keep trying, keep sacrificing, losing bits and pieces of her self.

It keeps her up at night, the reality that there’s no way for this to end but disaster. She lies awake for hours and hours staring at the ceiling. Sometimes in her own room, sometimes in Bellamy’s when neither of them can bear to be alone any longer. They never do more than lay quietly in the dark, finding comfort in hearing each other breathing. Sometimes when he falls asleep, she’ll lay her head on his chest just to hear his heart beating, just to reassure her that he’s still there.

Once, she actually falls asleep like this, and it’s the most restful sleep she’s had in a long, long time. Before she knows it’s even happening, Bellamy Blake worms his way into what’s left of her heart. She’s not sure he even knows, or if he feels the same way, so she keeps quiet, keeps a respectful distance when they’re not tangled together in sleep. Sometimes she catches herself looking too long, and sometimes she lets her fingers linger too long in would-be casual touches, but it’s good. She’s good (no, she’s not. She hasn’t been for a long time, she’s not sure if she ever will be again.)

It comes to a head just before a hunting party heads out one day. Bellamy is leading it, but she’s staying behind to help her mother in the sick bay. They’re saying their goodbyes as usual, hugging each other tightly (because they can never really be sure if this will be the last time). She pulls away, tells him to be safe, he nods solemnly, and presses his lips quickly against hers. She doesn’t even realize what’s happened until later when she’s tending to a patient. It had seemed so natural, hadn’t felt a bit out of place. It had felt like a thousandth kiss, not a first, but in a good way (in the best way).

Clarke feels lighter, almost, like a little bit of the sadness has been lifted away.  She hasn’t felt this way since she lost Lexa. There’s a second of panic – because everyone she lets get close to her dies (Wells, Finn, Lexa)  – but then she remembers that the world is literally ending so she decides to let herself have this while she still can. Hodnes laik kwelnes, but maybe a bit of weakness is what she needs right now.

When Bellamy returns just after dark with the hunting party, she throws her arms around him and kisses him. He almost seems surprised at first, like maybe he hadn’t realized what he’d done earlier either, but that lasts only a moment before he’s dropping the spear he’d been carrying and lifting Clarke off her feet. Kissing him feels like coming up for air after holding her head under water for far too long, like finally, _finally_ coming home. It’s different than with Lexa – they had been forged by war, and every kiss had felt fueled by their muddy history. What they had was deep and real – but it was also dark and a little dangerous. With Bellamy it feels like something inevitable, like they couldn’t avoid it any longer. It feels clean and new and that’s exactly what Clarke needs right now.

 

/./

 

Four months later, the power plants have irradiated most of the earth’s surface and they’ve been forced to retreat into Mount Weather. Not even the advanced air filtration system can keep the radiation out, so they’ve been forced to recirculate the little air they do have. Even that is beginning to fail, and so they’re left with a choice all too familiar to those who came down with the Ark. Clarke is the first to volunteer. She’s ready.

Bellamy follows suit, and soon every last remaining member of the 100 are redistributing their possessions to those who are left. Hopefully, they’ll be able to buy them enough time to figure out a way to fix things. Hopefully, this isn’t the end of the human race. But they’ve all fought long and hard, and they’ve all lost so much – their homes, their friends, their families, their lovers… themselves. They’re done. Their fight is over.

They all gather in the dining hall, make themselves comfortable on the floor. She and Bellamy lean against the wall, and she tucks herself into his chest the way she does every night. He kisses the top of her head, and she tips her head up to press a kiss to his throat. It’s mostly quiet, soft whispers between friends and lovers drifting through the air. Kane joins them at the last moment, leads them in the closest thing they have to a prayer. Everyone speaks it with him, even those who hold no spiritual beliefs. It’s a comfort, a last rite of passage. It’s a beautiful moment, one that Clarke hopes carries on in the last of humanity.

“In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.” Dozens of voices fill the hall, strong and clear. Clarke doesn’t shed any tears, but when she looks up at Bellamy she can see them rolling silently down his cheeks. He wipes them away and breathes deeply.

Gradually, the air in the room becomes still. Bellamy’s arm slides around her waist, and they curl together on the ground, every inch of her pressed to every inch of him. His heartbeat is still strong in his chest, but it’s beginning to slow. Clarke hums the same melody she had for Atom so long ago, until even that becomes too much effort. Bellamy strokes her hair as her eyes grow heavy and her breathing labored. His heart stutters under her fingers and she struggles to keep her eyes open long enough to look at him.

Clarke lets her eyes drift shut when his had stills in her hair. Dying isn’t as terrifying as she thought it would be. It’s actually quite peaceful, surrounded by her people in the arms of someone she loves. It’s almost like falling asleep.  It doesn’t feel like giving up, it feels –

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be happy, I swear, but I kept on typing and well...


End file.
